


We Should Just Kiss (Like Real People Do)

by slytherinmayflower



Category: Carmilla (Web Series)
Genre: Bacteria AU, Character Death, Don't Judge Me, F/F, Fluff, I started writing this in class, Laura sees Carmilla in her dreams, Minor Angst, Original Character Death(s), Papa Hollis is an ass, Romance, Romeo and Juliet AU, is that even a thing?, or maybe she will, people will survive!, sort of, sucky summaries are bountiful and i claim it as my own!, the dean will not be as evil, there will be cheese
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-22
Updated: 2016-08-09
Packaged: 2018-05-15 10:12:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,503
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5782159
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/slytherinmayflower/pseuds/slytherinmayflower
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Summary Re-Done.</p>
<p>Laura Hollis has been dreaming about a girl for months - never able to see her face and not exactly sure why she's dreaming about her. All she does know, is that when the Mayor of Silas announces a ball in the honour of her daughter returning home, there's something deep in her that's pushing her to go - no matter how much her father hates the Karnsteins.</p>
<p>She doesn't expect the sudden discovery of an entirely different species from her own, and a damning disease known simply as "The Infection" that threatens their existence.</p>
<p>But then again, nothing is ever /really/ expected in Silas.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue: The End of The Beginning

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first Carmilla fic (also my first one on AO3), although I have written for other fandoms on other websites. I haven't finished working out some of the details for it, so I'll be adding tags and updating warnings and stuff as it goes one. But be kind? And let me know what you think. :)

Fingers grazed delicately across her skin, drawing a line down her spine before coming to rest on the curve of her hips; arms slowly moving to embrace her. Laura felt every gentle exhale against her neck, sparks littering her skin and igniting something deep within her. 

"Hmmm," a seductive voice mused, "cold, cupcake?"

Laura shrugged gently, resting her hands on those of the girl and leaning back into her embrace, relishing in the feeling of safety that surged through her. 

The girl chuckled gently. "Let me warm you up then," she hummed, pressing her mouth tenderly to the side of Laura's neck and causing another bout of sparks to burn their way along her nerves.

Surprisingly, the sensations had ceased to frighten her, although she imagined spending months being accosted in her dreams by a faceless, warm body would do that. Nervousness and fear had long since been replaced by feelings of comfort and familiarity. The touch of her stranger's arms brought a serene peace to her being that she'd never felt before. Any tension that riddled her frame melted away the second they made contact and Laura became clay for her stranger to mould. 

Laura lifted one of the girl's hands and intertwined her fingers with hers, smiling softly at the way they fit together, nearly perfectly. 

"I wish you were real."

The tender kisses slowed as they scaled her jaw, coming to a stop at her ear. 

"Maybe I am," the girl husked, and Laura could feel her eyes locked on their meshed fingers. She squeezed them together gently and huffed slightly.

"Then I want to know you."

Her raspy chuckle seemed to shake the very foundation of Laura's being. 

"What could you possibly want to know?"

She sounded both amused and incredulous, as if she couldn't understand that Laura ached with the desire to know her. To know more than just a touch. To know the person who stirred such feelings in her - no matter how faceless that person was to her in this moment.

"Everything. Anything…what you look like, what you like to do, what you want to be, if you want to travel, if you have siblings – your name.”

The arm still around her squeezed gently, a hand sliding beneath Laura’s shirt to rub soothing circles into her skin. Laura chose to ignore the sudden rush of butterflies in her stomach, focusing instead on the way her stranger leaned their forehead against her head, the fleeting kiss pressing like a weight into her skull.

“Well, I have to keep some of my secrets, otherwise I’ll lose my air of mystery won’t I? But I suppose…to satisfy you… - I’ll allow one question.”

Laura’s brow furrowed immediately. She felt near distraught that she was only allowed one when there were so many she needed answers to. Her stranger hummed patiently, moving them to sway gently as she waited. 

“But…but there’s so many – too many! Why only one?”

The kisses returned fleetingly before the girl spoke again, every syllable breaking something inside Laura. 

“Because it’s almost time to leave, love. You can’t feel it, being as you are, but I can… This will be our last meeting here and so I must allow only one question. Whichever you ask, I will answer, but know that we will leave once it’s done.”

Laura felt panic stir in her gut and clasped the girl’s hand tighter, pulling her arms around her firmly and feeling the girl mould herself into Laura’s back in wordless comfort. 

“Then I won’t ask anything.” 

Her stranger chuckled sadly, and Laura felt something dampen her skin. It only took a moment before she realized the girl was crying, and more than ever, Laura wanted to be able to face her. To face her and look into her eyes and wipe away her tears to comfort her. 

“Time will continue on regardless of whether you ask or not, cupcake. Eventually we’ll be taken away, separated again like we were before – but though I don’t want to leave you, I must, but that doesn’t mean I have to leave your curiosity so unsated. So ask me, one question; go.”

Laura squeezed the girl’s hand tightly, as if that would keep her close no matter what time might dictate. She knew it was futile, but it wouldn’t make her relinquish her hold.

“What…what’s your name?”

The girl exhaled softly against her skin before resting her lips there. It wasn’t a kiss, not quite, but just the press of lips to skin in imitation. 

Laura closed her eyes at the sensation, feeling a distant tug in her stomach.

“Carmilla.”

There was a flood of light and Laura raised one hand to cover her eyes. She squeezed the gi – Carmilla’s hand, expecting a response only for none to come. 

The light dissipated and Laura opened her eyes. 

Carmilla was gone.


	2. The Austere Awakening

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Carmilla wakes up, the Dean is there, confusing stuff is vaguely mentioned, Laura pops up somewhere with Papa Hollis...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's been so long - I got stuck and then shitty things occurred and I really only developed a plot in Bio today like eight hours ago and have since been tweaking things so yeah! Enjoy you evil little noodles.

 

Carmilla gasped, surging upwards and allowing hands to drag her from the liquid depths of her prison. A mix of dry, coagulated and still sopping, thick blood coated her skin and hair, plastering it to her face. She was sure she looked like a creature from children's nightmares, but yet it didn't bother her. She'd endured this for over a year; nothing much bothered her at this point. And even less so when she, with giddy relief, recalled the girl she'd seen during her internment.  _Her_ girl. Her mate.

With her vision shaky and blurred, her whole body trembling from both fatigue and excitement and with an unbearable thirst making her throat ache, she could just make out several bodies moving quickly around her. Hands patted her down and rubbed her back and pushed matted hair out of her face at the same time that bodies blurred around her, shovels digging and overturning dirt and hoses being turned on blood-stained grass, people busily plucking splinters from the ground and cleaning up the over all esthetic of the garden. Their meticulousness was nothing new, and nothing Carmilla cared to watch, for over the flurry of activity she couldn't care to follow, she heard her. Maman. 

The woman made her way through the hustle and bustle, quickly approaching Carmilla and gently holding her by her arms. Maman studied her, her countenance appearing near disinterested though to Carmilla, she was obviously concerned. She licked her thumb before smudging it through the thick mess on her forehead, clearing the space until she could press a light kiss to the skin itself.

"Did it work, my dear?" She cooed, genuine curiosity surpassing the almost clinical tone of her voice. Carmilla could feel Maman's eyes raking up and down her form, equal parts distasteful at the mess and concerned about her herself. 

"Y-eurgh" Her voice cracked and Maman snapped her fingers, gesturing harshly at the dozens of her children roaming around her and frantically cleaning up the mess Carmilla's unearthing had left. Immediately, a sachet of blood was placed in her hand and she cradled it against Carmilla's mouth, one hand still firmly gripping Carmilla's arm and keeping her upright.

"Drink," She instructed, watching Carmilla weakly bite through the plastic and into the sustenance within. 

Maman was well aware that Carmilla had not been the same even before she'd been interned, but seeing her now, after over a year and knowing she was still so weak, still so hesitant to eat wounded something within her that she rarely acknowledged. 

Carmilla's whole body shook desperately, like a fledgling flower in the wind but she did as she was told, as well as she was able. Slowly, the blur of her vision receded, her hearing cleared and the aching in her throat soothed to a dull throb, and she looked up as Maman brushed hair from her face, kissing her forehead again. 

"My glittering girl, how horrible a thing to have endured," She muttered, "but I must know, did it work?"

Carmilla cleared her throat, croaking harshly and hacking briefly into her hand, before nodding. "Ye-s."

Something, (not quite excitement, because Carmilla had never witnessed her Maman experience excitement), but something much like it lit up her eyes and she wrapped an arm around Carmilla, herding her against her side with no thought as to how it would sully her business wear, as she began walking them back towards the mansion they called home. It had grown larger, perhaps fancier, in the year or so that Carmilla had been interned, though she knew without a doubt that her room was exactly as she'd left it.

"I am quite pleased, Mircalla, for you as much as for myself. The Council is arriving soon, my dearest, and to know that they will be here to witness your progress gives me much...hope."

The Council? Carmilla's eyebrows raised on their own. The Council was compiled of the leaders of the largest Clans in the world, as well as the oldest vampires to still live. They made laws for the benefit of their species, and enforced them where necessary. Maman was one of the most powerful members of the Council, but she rarely left the Clan and Carmilla was informed by Mattie, one of her few older siblings, that it was rare for the entirety of the Council to ever gather in one place. Carmilla understood that Maman's efforts and research were very important, but for the Council, all of it, to come to Silas for a simple breakthrough seemed a bit much.

As if reading her mind, Maman shook her head, squeezing her arm as if to physically prevent the thought.

"No, dear one, the Council is not just returning to Silas for this most impressive finding. No - they've finally discovered the origins of the Infection."

Several of Carmilla's siblings shuddered nearby, she noticed, even as Carmilla was coerced up the huge centre stairway by Maman's guiding hands. Their whole bodies trembled and as she climbed higher, she felt their sympathetic glances burning holes into her skin. Barely supressing her own disgusted shakes, Carmilla remained quiet and contemplative, merely watching the different doors they passed on their way to her room.

Maman opened the door, dismissing a girl who was turning down the sheets on the bed, who Carmilla assumed to be one of the new kitten fledglings. The girl was technically also her new sibling, but they were sure to be lessened dramatically soon enough. Maman always had enjoyed fostering groups of new children and then plucking the select few favourites from the bunch to remain and become family. If the girl survived that far, Carmilla would call her family, but until then, she dared not get attached. 

The girl offered her a shy smile as she finished fluffing the last of the six pillows on the large bed in the corner of the room before she scurried away and Maman ushered Carmilla into the bathroom and then straight into the shower, no doubt getting irritated by the bloody foot-prints and general mess she was making. 

Almost as soon as Carmilla was vigorously scrubbing blood off of her skin, Maman resumed talking. 

"The Council, as you know, has been tracking the outbreaks and they've traced the first occurrences to a few _Mutts_ that were wandering through Silas."

Mutts, Carmilla remembered, were outcast vampires; ones that broke from, or were exiled by, their Clan and wandered the different territories. Not to be confused with Mongrels or Scruffs, as they were referred to. Carmilla had once asked Ellia, another of her older siblings, what it meant to be a Mongrel. Ellia, as kind as she was for a vampire, was disgusted by the very mention of the term, but had supplied such an explanation as this; Mongrels were the few vampires that shifted into canine animal forms; either because it was their first animal form or because they viewed life as a vampire in a less than favorable light. All those who turned against their species were compared to their natural enemy; the wolves. If you weren't a vampire (or a human, she had emphasised) you were about as respectable as a wolf. (Which was to say, not at all).

The natural form of a vampire, Maman had told her when she'd first risen, is that of a feline or a form of stealth and darkness; which is why fledglings are known as 'kittens'. She couldn't have been more pleased when Carmilla, her diamond, her glittering girl's panther form fit all three of those most important categories. 

"But, Maman, I doubt a few Mutts would be capable of creating such a thing as the Infection."

"As do I, and the Council. No, we believe there was a more... _specific_ cause," She paused, her voice giving away her displeasure, before she continued on, in a deceivingly cheerful diction,"But enough of that. Tell me what you saw."

Carmilla smiled despite herself, rosy cheeks having nothing to do with the intensity of her scrubbing as she recalled the way her mate had fit so perfectly against her body. 

"It was a kind of nothing-ness, but  _she_ was there. Each and every time. And everything felt better, and easier and it was almost like I could breathe again - like being near her gave me something I didn't know I was missing," She swooned, nearly breathless, though she didn't truly need to breathe. "Even towards the end, when I knew I'd be awakening, we were so drawn to each other; her to me as much as I was to her." Realising she was babbling like a school-child about their first crush, she clammed up, her hands resuming their furious motions in her hair, even though she could tell Maman wasn't upset. 

On the contrary, she couldn't have been more  _pleased._

"Little one, this could not have been a bigger success," She cooed, "You have met her and it took but a year to establish significant and long-lasting contact. And the bond? Do you feel the bond still?"

"Yes Maman," Carmilla responded, though she felt a possessive tug deep in her chest. She didn't want to tell anyone about the bond she still felt with the girl - _her girl_ - her cupcake. 

"Perfect. Get dressed, Mircalla, and then rest, you will need it in the coming days. I'll send Mattie to see you once I'm done with her company - you remember how much she loves to plan balls, don't you?"

Carmilla huffed but stayed silent, waiting patiently as Maman departed before she stepped out of the shower and into a clean towel, throwing a dressing gown over her shoulders to fight the chill she felt bristle her skin. She'd known the plan since her internment; Maman had promised her it wouldn't change, after all, and of course it hadn't. It had only escalated; from her awakening and a small gathering, to her awakening and a large, lavish ball to not only celebrate her return to the Clan (and return to being Maman's favourite, of course) but to lure her mate to her. 

Honestly, Carmilla couldn't believe the things she agreed to, but she had agreed and it was  _necessary_. It was the only way for her to get better, after all.

And anyway, she was guaranteed to see her mate again; they were bound after all, there was no way she  _wouldn't_ show up.

\---

Laura rocked on her heels, fidgeting as her dad leaned over the counter in the kitchen, staring at the glassy invite in his hand. She did her best to remain silent, noticing the look on his face and recalling it was the one always associated with the 'Karnsteins' as people more commonly referred to them, although the mother of the family, and newly re-elected mayor of Silas, was known to go by Ms Morgan. 

"Daddy?" 

He looked up, his eyes dazed as if he weren't really seeing her before he rubbed at them with his hands. 

"Sorry, pumpkin, what was that?"

Laura sighed internally, but nodded to herself nonethless. It was best to get this out of the way now, rather then leaving it to fester. She, of course, had already heard about the Karnsteins' hosting a ball to celebrate the return of their oldest child (seriously, those invites were sent so fast it was almost suspicious) and had co-ordinated with LaFontaine to be picked up as soon as possible, so as to avoid enduring her father's overzealous rants. Laura was well aware that she'd be attending, forced to do so or otherwise, there was no doubt she'd be going. Laura didn't quite know what it was about them, but at the mere mention of the Karnstein family, he always bristled, and despite being an accomplished cop and interrogator, his feelings about them were always quite clear. Regardless, his dislike of them seemed to only make him want to be around them more; as if they were suspects in a crime and he was dead set on being around when they cracked, and so, no matter what the occassion, Laura often found herself being carted off to the Karnsteins many social gatherings.

Laura had done her best to avoid being around him any time they were brought up. She didn't like seeing him so worked up, so...not himself, and after learning that it was his automatic response to the slightest whisper of the family, she quickly grew tired of it. As curious as she was by nature, this was one thing that she didn't care to investigate. 

"I was just wondering what you're holding."

"Oh," he paused, his face scrunching up distastefully and his eyes burning with something akin to barely repressed rage. "It's an... _invitation_. The..."

"Karnsteins," she supplied.

"Yes,  _them_.  One of their eldest has so - so  _graciously_ returned to town and they," He paused again, lifting the invite to eye-level before putting on the most pretentious voice Laura had ever heard as he read, " _wish to invite_ us _to celebrate the long-awaited and most honourable return of our dearest Mircalla von_ _Karnstein_."

He growled, his hand steadily clenching the invitation tighter although Laura was more than certain that while it was no doubt sophisticated, it probably didn't read exactly what her dad decided to say.

 _"_ _The gathering is to take place in two night's time, at the home of the esteemed and most_  generous _Mayor of Silas, Ms Lilita Morgan, at eight pm sharp. All are welcome to bring a partner, but are limited to inviting only a single plus one, due to the numerous guests invited to celebrate this special occassion. We should hope that you and your party are capable of attending such an important occassion but understand that due to this invitation arriving on such short notice, some may not be able to attend. Please RSVP as is appropriate, and at your earliest convenience._  Signed, the ' _auspicious, notably_ suspicious  _and_ _unbearably_ pretentious _, Matska Belmonde._ Please, as if they don't know the whole town is probably salvating at the thought of going to that house. Those absolute _-_ "

A car honked outside and Laura cheerfully shuffled towards the door, "Oh well, that's nice Dad. But there's LaFontaine, gotta go!"

Her Dad barely even looked up and by the time he'd done so, Laura and LaFontaine were already well on their way. Shopping time, here they come. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Join me next time, when there's ball-prep and Hollstein encounters! Lemme know what you think below in the comments, and try and remember that these are most likely going to be, unfortunately, sporadic updates until June - because I will be attempting to study (I suck at it, and this chapter is the sole product of a solid eight hours procrastination and pizza) and prepare for my exams!


	3. The Bedraggled Beginning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Carmilla and her brother, Carmilla and Mattie, Carmilla and the new recruits, Carmilla and Maman....and no Laura...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's been so long, I've just not been up to updating. But, I'll be posting two chapters to make up for it :) Let me know what you think.

Carmilla curled a strand of her hair around her finger; feeling the softness and admiring its gentle shine before directing her gaze to meet Mattie’s in the mirror. Her sister squeezed her shoulder gently before pulling the brush through her luscious locks again. Pleased with how easy she found the task, she set the brush down and carded her hand through Carmilla’s hair once before stepping back.

 

Her soft demeanour when dealing with Carmilla had softened further; tinged with sadness and curling the corners of her mouth with a quiet, aching feeling that Carmilla could not quite put a name to. She knew it well though; a type of longing that she felt when she wanted to cling to something, to remember it eternally even though it would fade from her with time, as all things do.

 

(Most things…she still remembered so many horrifying and glorifying things that had been laid in dust for centuries.

 

Things like the sick bite of teeth into her skin that night in the shadows cast by the lights of the ballroom; like the violent rage that had reduced her family’s murderer to mere pieces; like the crushing blow of knowing her only hope was her only nightmare, the dark depths of a coffin of blood.)

 

“There ‘Milla,” Mattie cooed, “knot and tangle-free.”

 

She passed a hand through Carmilla’s hair again, her expression still quiet and sombre even behind her mask of playfulness.

 

The heavy wood of the door echoed with light knocks before it was pushed open, tracing a subtle mark on the floor that indicated its use. Carmilla knew who it was even before he entered the room, the subtle spice of his scent giving him away.

 

Kol, Carmilla’s only remaining brother, sauntered through, his lips curled in their trademark smirk though his eyes betrayed his fondness for his sister. His handsome features, so similar to her own, dark and sharp and angled gained an unprecedented softness; not only from the depth of the joy in his eyes at the sight of her, refreshed and somewhat healthy looking, but from the smooth edge of a smirk that was more of a smile than anything else.

 

Mattie didn’t even bother to roll her eyes as their brother ignored her, all too understanding as she stepped aside for Kol to stand behind Carmilla. His hands rested with a reassuring weight on her shoulders, squeezing them gently as the two locked eyes in the mirror.

 

“Lovely to see you, little sister,” He muttered, in his lightly accented voice.

 

Carmilla rolled her eyes, dropping the formality that lingered in her veins and knocking her head back against his chest. “I’m almost a century older than you,” She reminded him.

 

Kol scoffed. “Fifty years is _not_ a century. And as if that truly matters. You were murdered at eighteen – I’m _physically_ older.”

 

“Oh, yes. Because there’s absolutely no shame in being ‘Forever 21’.”

 

Mattie let out a groan, even as Kol snorted; the trio all too aware of Mattie’s undeniable loathing of the store after a particularly interesting encounter some years back.

 

“God ‘Milla – must you mention that dreadful store. It’s a horrible place – with truly incorrigible employees even by _my_ standards and besides, everybody knows ‘Forever 21’ is really ‘Face It You’re 40’.”

 

Kol huffed again, pressing his lips together tightly before he shrugged off the conversation with a brisk kiss to the back of Carmilla’s head.

 

“Regardless of the terrible name or status or whatever of that ‘ _dreadful store_ ’, I was sent here with purpose. Maman has requested the two of you in the lab,” he paused, perhaps feeling the sudden pang of anxiety that struck her before he continued with a growing smile, “I’m sure it’s just a check-up, but regardless, I’ll see you later for your dress fittings. You can help me pick a suit.”

 

Carmilla nodded, recalling the days of years long gone where he would mosey about in only leather jackets or dark denim – showing up to sophisticated events in what couldn’t even pass for smart-casual. Carmilla had spared him many a time from being gutted like a fish for the embarrassment he was to Maman, tucking him into suits that she would pick and Mattie would buy; the pair of them knowing to be prepared well in advance.

 

“And you can tell me all the terrible lines you’ll use during the ball.”

 

“So you can steal them? As if, ‘Calla.”

 

“Oh please, Kol – the only thing I need to get girls is my face.”

 

“Your face –”

 

“Children,” Mattie interrupted, amused by their antics, “as… _entertaining_ as this is, we must all be on our way. Maman isn’t one to keep waiting.”

 

They both nodded, Kol pressing a kiss to her hair and Mattie’s cheek before leaving and Carmilla moving quickly to get dressed; pulling on a soft sweater she’d stolen from her brother and sweats before being herded out of the room.

 

The pair headed down the stairs, their casual air long gone; the duo emitting an aura of regality and sophistication as they practically floated down the stairs; untouchable as they observed the preparations for the night’s ball in silence as they descended the staircase.

 

In the middle of the hall stood a precarious ladder, two fledglings standing at the precipice in silence, cleaning the dazzling chandelier as their Coven rushed about around them. They worked diligently, only looking away from the fragile crystal to observe the flurry of movement beneath them with a quiet fascination. Carmilla recognised the girl as the one to have made her bed on the night she’d been unearthed.

 

“Ah yes,” Mattie acknowledged, following her gaze, “some of the youngest of our new kittens.”

 

She gestured at them flippantly and Carmilla watched in quiet amusement as they blushed, watching herself and Mattie from the corner of their eyes. It was obvious in the way they trembled, their muscles bunching and their chests still fluttering gently; their hearts yet to meet that slow, drawn out beat, that they were so unused to themselves; so fresh-faced and new in the world of all they now were.

 

“You’ve encountered the girl; you’ve ascertained that she’s in, I’m sure.” Carmilla nodded, noticing the discrete way the girl preened, her eyes returning to her work as her hands carefully moved to polish the delicate crystal. She seemed more at ease with herself than the boy, who still quaked with a quiet fear and made no effort to disguise his eavesdropping. He said something to his counterpart, who ignored him for a single moment before replying; though Carmilla could not be bothered to strain herself to listen over the ruckus of her Coven.

 

“Though truly there isn’t much to be said about… _him_. He exhibits all the usual signs – he’ll be eliminated soon enough I’m sure.” She spoke of the boy with such distaste that he shivered – and then, at the mention of his death, which Carmilla herself could see coming, he trembled; the ladder moving suddenly and shaking the focused girl free.

 

Carmilla knew she’d split her head open – maybe end up killing herself if she wasn’t stopped. Fledglings were so fragile in their initial months; still retaining that human weakness; their bodies unaccustomed to so many things, riddled with changes that made them vulnerable to deaths that more seasoned vampires could easily survive.

 

And so, despite her own weakness, she stepped in.

 

Flashing forwards, it took less than a second before Carmilla was beneath the ladder, the girl cradled in a bundle in her arms, trembling. She scrambled to her feet, nervously inclining her head and thanking her though Carmilla thought nothing of it.

 

“Your name?” She enquired.

 

The girl shook, her eyes wide with both shock and curiosity. She reeked of a desire to be accepted, to please. Her scent, the smell of potential, assaulted her senses and Carmilla saw Mattie nod, both in agreement and approval.

 

Yes, this girl would survive – she would be more than just a part of the Coven, she would no doubt be family.

 

“Emily,” she stammered, eyes becoming enraptured in the way Carmilla’s mouth pulled at the corners.

 

Carmilla nodded, kicking her leg out and splintering the ladder, watching Emily watch the boy plummet to the ground; his body stopped only by Carmilla’s hand ramming itself through his chest and out the other side, his heart clutched in her fist.

 

Carelessly, she withdrew, tossing his heart to the floor as his body crumpled to the ground, his head smacking off the ladder and blood curling around his dark hair, his vacant eyes looking upwards and Emily looking back.

 

She didn’t even flinch.

 

Carmilla nodded, watching the stirring of self-pride well within the brunette before she slipped away, calling behind her, even as she gestured for a roaming member of the Coven to clean up the mess;

 

“You’ll find you’ll fit in well here, Em.”

 

\---

 

Maman was waiting for them in the lab, in the recesses of the basement.

 

Towering over them, on shelves along the walls were the assorted instruments of exploration used in her many experiments as well as various sized containers with a multitude of different specimens in each. There was an abundance of metal desks and several large presses packed with documents, case studies and notes about a selection of experiments and observations covering a copious amount of subjects of varying degrees of importance.

 

Carmilla knew there was a large press as well as several shelves dedicated solely to her involvement in the avid and fervent search for the Cure.

 

Maman greeted them silently, motioning them forward before gripping Carmilla’s arm and guiding her to rest on the nearest desk beside a small tray of instruments she knew were used to draw blood.

 

“You look marvellous, dear,” Maman commented, prepping her arm with a sterile wipe as Mattie dug through the files surmounted on the desk next to her.

 

She finally found what she was looking for, it seemed, setting the file open beside Maman, who read it briefly though Carmilla could make little sense of the details.

 

“Your dress fitting is after this, is it not?”

 

Carmilla winced at the press of the needle into her skin, the feel of it sliding into the slick of her veins making her skin crawl. She felt tired, worn down though she knew a large part of it was because of saving Emily. She couldn’t afford to waste her energy; not when she felt so sick while trying to regain it. She could barely eat – and barely stomach what she did, but she knew this was her fault and so she said nothing of it.

 

“Yes,” she replied, although she was aware it was not a question. Maman knew everything that happened in Silas – it was her town after all, and Carmilla was her child; and no matter what it was, Maman was sure to know it, most _especially_ when it was about Carmilla.

 

The apple of her Maman’s eye before her illness, her mother’s interest in her had only sky-rocketed; Carmilla finding herself amidst odd acts of affection and care under her mother’s attention and careful concern.

 

“Are you excited, dearest? I’d expect you are – this is a most wondrous occasion I must say. And you have seemed so much brighter since you awoke; hasn’t she, Matska?” Her Maman cooed, her speech old and formal; like Carmilla often found herself reverting to. Though she did her best to keep up with the world around her; she was always the Countess beneath the slow drawl and short words. Her family were timeless; and with each other it always showed.

 

Mattie nodded at once, “She has, Maman, she looks like she’s seen the sun.”

 

Maman did not reply although Carmilla snorted, clasping a hand over her mouth and pardoning herself upon seeing Maman’s scathing look. If she had seen the sun, her skin would blister and burn and her eyes would glow a furious red to mark her as a monster for all her wicked enemies and her poor prey, the meagre mortals, to bear witness to.

 

“Don’t joke about such instances, Matska. Mockery isn’t the product of a strong mind,” Maman scolded, gently pulling the needle free from Carmilla’s arm and cleaning the excess blood from her skin.

 

All three watched as the blood continued to trickle, the breach in Carmilla’s skin not healing at what had become known as her usual rate.

 

Maman tutted, pressing a cotton ball to the mark before applying a plaster and allowing a minute smile to curve her mouth as she met Carmilla’s disappointed eyes, Matska shuffling out of the room with a hand pressed to her face. Though she tried to hide it, Carmilla could hear her sniffling as she fled.

 

Her heart sunk in her chest, desolate and despaired at the realisation that nothing was going as expected. She was getting worse.

 

“I thought you said it would help – that I would get better.”

 

Her voice trembled and Maman squeezed her hand gently in her own, her eyes bright with a knowing glint that all mothers seemed to have.

 

“But don’t you see, darling? You are. You’re smiling again, and,” she brushed her hair from her eyes and rested her hand on the curve of Carmilla’s cheek, “I can see the spark in your eyes again. You just need to remember, dearest, that getting better takes time – and that although you’ve met her; it was not in the physical world. It will take time, Mircalla, but you will get there.”

 

Carmilla closed her eyes, willing her disappointment away even as a warm tear slipped down her cheek and the pressure in her chest grew.

 

“I don’t want to die.”

 

“And I’ll make sure you don’t.”

 


End file.
